Randi Schalet

With the death of my son by overdose, I began writing poetry. I have written personal essays along with two novels which were published by small presses. My recent nonfiction has appeared in Peauxdunque Press, Chicago Story South, and Prime Time Magazine.

The Backseat Is Full

On Dana Street in North Berkeley, unhoused men and women huddled under a church awning in the morning downpour. I looked away, then forced myself to cross the street, raising my voice over the pounding rain.
“This weather is awful,” I said, shivering, water running under my collar, trying to sound casual, though I likely came across as what I was: guilty and entitled.

“Kayaking On Spy Pond,” “Parenting Mistakes,” and “Choices”

I lied when I said he’d been clean for a year.
It made a better story:
Addict resisting the call of meth,
riding the wave when the desire hit,
how big he felt—and bigger.